Set My Heart On Fire Like Gasoline
by bechloehuh
Summary: In the small town of Barden, rumours spread fast. Rumours such as; getting arrested for destruction of property, or theft, or a so-called cocaine addiction, or a suicide attempt, or being blamed for Arson. But Chloe Beale likes to think that a certain someone has at least a little good in them. That someone being Beca Mitchell, who she's pretty sure doesn't even like her. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**August 1993**

Beca's eyes fluttered open. Her eyelids felt heavy, almost as if something was weighing them down. She lifted her arm to look at her watch, but her arm felt as if something was weighing it down too. She lifted her arm again, with more force this time, squinting her eyes at her watch to see that it read eleven fifteen at night. Her eyes widened. It was fifteen minutes past her curfew.

She stayed put though. Something felt very wrong. Like.. **_what is happening, why am I here, and how come it's so hot in here?_ **She turned her head, - her head that felt like it was on fire - and she looked beside her to see that no, it wasn't her head that was on fire, it was in fact the several stacks of hay approximately nine feet away from her. And it took her a few seconds to realise that oh God, the barn was on fire. Like, all of it.

Immediately, her eyes fully shot open, and her body was now in full alert as she jumped to her feet and picked up her journal and Walkman off of the floor. She scanned the barn, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to look for a way out. The whole barn was a wreck, all of the hay stacks catching fire one by one. Thick black clouds of smoke choked the air. The growing flames seemed to form a monstrous beast, devouring everything that got in it's way. So she ran. She ran and she ran, as the glowing embers of death caught up to her, leaping and twirling and cascading all around, making her jump back with a choked scream. She took deep breaths, choking on the gritty air that seemed to be suffocating her, and her eyes darted around with worry. She was surrounded. The ceiling cracked, and the fire, like a deadly whip, lashed at the pale skin on her bare knees and shins.

Wincing and hissing, she felt her body become more hotter, as if she was being cooked, and the deadly flames spit a shower of sparks at her as she dropped to her knees and started crawling, making sure to protect the journal and Walkman gripped in her left hand. She heard a loud crash behind her, and she didn't need to turn around to know that one of the wooden beams had fallen down from the roof. So she kept crawling, until she had to _seriously get the hell out of here before she dies,_ and she leapt to her feet again. There was a gap in the wall of the barn, adjacent to the main entrance at the other side of the barn.

So with a deep breath, she hugged her beloved journal to her body, gripped her Walkman in her hand, squinted her eyes enough so she could see out of the slits of them, and set off sprinting. She tried to ignore the searing pain in her legs, which were now weakening by the second. Just as she made it to the hole, which was no larger than a stack of hay, meaning she had to bend down and shimmy her way out, she felt something dig into her neck, just where her clavicle was. She cried out, slamming her hand down on the ground as her knees gave way. Her journal was still tucked under her arm, and her other arm was out in front of her on the ground, with the Walkman under her hand, as she crawled the rest of the way out of the hole.

As soon as she was out of the barn, she jumped to her feet again, staggering slightly as she turned around to see what it looked like from the outside. She took a few steps back, backing away from the barn as she strained her neck up to see that the smoke seemed to be eating away at the sky, thick gray clouds of it billowing into the air. The once pale blue sky before she came to the barn, now shielded by a veil of pure darkness and clouds of gray.

And then she heard the sirens, jolting her out of her daydream. It seemed to her that the view of the building in flames in front of her that she just escaped from, was more pleasant than knowing that she'd be soon questioned by policemen and/or women about what had happened. Her heart was pounding as her brain registered the meaning of the jarring racket. In less than a minute, the building would probably be surrounded, as would she, and it was the inevitability that nobody would believe that she was the victim in this, that sent her running, intending to go to the woods where she had previously come from, back home to where her father would be the only one not to ask any questions.

Except, as soon as she had set off running, her legs gave way again, and she collapsed to the ground. She no longer could hear the sounds of the sirens. Instead, she could only make out the blurred shape of two fire engines and a police car though her blood-shot, puffy, crying eyes. The flashing red and blue lights, their mere presence signifying the misfortune of another. The sight that caused people to pray regardless of whether religious or not. The tires screeched, and the wail of the siren madly barrelled through the streets in hope of saving one more life. Only, that life had already been saved by herself. The proof of that, was that she was now laid on the floor crying, her legs and arms burnt and scraped up, and a gash in her collarbone, which she had momentarily forgotten about.

That was until she felt herself drifting off. But no, she couldn't sleep now. Now wasn't time for sleep. She had done enough of that in the barn apparently. Now was time to run. Like, _now_, before anybody sees her. But something stopped her. Her breathing was erratic as she turned around, still laid on the ground with the stones digging into her palms. It was the sound of voices, yelling and screaming.

She barely made out the words "someone is inside!" before she stood up and bolted in the opposite direction, grinding her teeth at the sharp, throbbing pain in her neck. She quickly brought a hand up as she simultaneously looked down, noticing for the first time, the blood staining her shirt. She looked at her hand, which had specks of blood on it which had leaked through her shirt. As she got further into the woods, she stopped and sat down on a chopped down tree trunk. Doing so, she managed to wake up the now throbbing pain in her stomach, and she leaned over in between both her legs, dry-heaving and coughing until the feeling surpassed.

Taking a few deep breaths, she took hold of the collar of her shirt, and tore the fabric so she could fully see what she had done to her collarbone, wincing as her hand brushed over the wound. There was a chip of wood, approximately four centimetres long and a centimetre wide, stuck in her neck where the clavicle bone meets the scapula, buried at least an inch deep. She took another deep breath. _**In through the nose, out through the mouth.**_ And in one quick motion, she pinched the end of the piece of wood, and pulled it out, slapping her hand over her mouth as the pain shot through her, like she had just been struck by a bolt of lightening. Quickly, she took off her plaid shirt, leaving her in just a white bloody tank top, and screwed it up in a ball, holding against the gash that was now there, with blood slowly running from it. Luckily, it wasn't that bad and it didn't look like she would need medical attention, but unluckily, it was almost thirty minutes past her curfew.

With that in mind, she stood up on wobbly legs, not daring to look down at the injuries she had there before setting off, trampling through the woods, to where she lived in a small dingy cabin with her father not so far away. Her head was throbbing, and her collarbone was stinging, and she felt like she had been run over by a truck, but she finally made it home at exactly 11:54. Fifty four minutes past her curfew.

As she hobbled up the path to her house, she thought about what she would tell her father. It was obvious that she had been in an accident, despite how she hadn't looked at herself in a mirror yet. If the bloody shirt and tank top, and the cut up and burnt knees were anything to go by. She couldn't afford to be in any more trouble though. Not with her father and certainly not with the law.

She made her way up the porch steps and quietly tiptoed to the door, making sure to step lightly in case the wood beneath her creaked. Just as she pushed down on the handle though, she heard her name come from the darkness beside her. She abruptly turned to her left, her hand shooting up to cover her heart, just next to where her blooded up shirt was was, and she breathed out a sigh.

"You scared me." She whispered, the first words she had said in what felt like days.

"Where the hell have you been?" her father demanded, standing up and walking towards her. "Do you realise what time it is? Beca, I can't have you out causing havoc and mischief. Not again. Not after the stunt you pulled last week at the convenience store."

It seemed that he couldn't see her injuries, due to the porch light being turned off. Which was good. But then, before Beca could warn him, he reached up and flicked the light switch. As usual, the lamp took a few seconds to come on, but when it did, his eyes widened.

"Oh my."

"Dad, it's not as bad as it looks-"

"-What happened to you?"

His demeanour seemed to change. His eyes softened, and his voice quietened. He reached out a hand and cupped Beca's face, and only then did Beca notice that her head was injured too. His thumb stroked out and wiped the blood from her eyebrow, where she must have cut while climbing out of the barn. His eyes then wandered down to the shirt which Beca had pressed against her collarbone.

"Holy Christ," he whispered after he pulled the shirt away, noticing the gash there. And Beca's father was religious. It wasn't often that he used those words. Beca knew then that he was genuinely concerned. "What did you do?"

"I.." her words got stuck in her throat, and she didn't even realise she was crying until she felt her dad wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, just like how he had wiped the blood from her head.

"Who did this to you?"

"Nobody, dad, I.." She paused to let out a shaky breath.

"You what? What happened?"

She looked up into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat when she noticed just how worried he looked.

"There was a fire. At the barn."

"What? What started it?"

"I don't know. I was writing and listening to my music, and I.. I must have fallen asleep and when I woke up, it was on fire. I got out by myself, and-"

"-By yourself?!" he interrupted, and she nodded quickly, bringing her hand up and wiping her tears with the back of it.

"I came home as soon as I got out, I promise. I didn't mean to be late. I didn't mean to, dad. I didn't start it. I'm so sorry!"

The man pulled her in, embracing her as she cried into his chest; tears, blood and sweat staining his blue Levi Strauss shirt.

"Shhh." he hushed her, stroking the back of her head as she gripped his shirt. "It's okay."

"Please don't tell anyone, dad. If people know that I was there then they'll think I started it but I didn't. I promise, it wasn't me. No one will believe me if I tell them that I fell asleep by accident. Dad, please don't tell anyone!"

He shushed her again. She carried on rambling, until her words turned into a soft murmur, and he shushed her again and again.

"It's okay, Beca." he mumbled as he kissed her forehead. "Come on, let's get some dressin' on those wounds."

Just as they turned around, they heard the sound of footsteps on the path behind them. With his arm around Beca, Warren turned around and squinted his eyes to see who it was.

"Who goes there?!" he yelled, and the figure stepped out of the shadows, their police badge shining from the porch light. Immediately, Beca stood behind her father, and he placed a protective arm around her to keep her behind him.

"Officer McCormick."

"Evenin' Mr. Mitchell. Beca." he acknowledged. She just nodded.

"Everything okay?" Warren asked, sounding a little too blasé.

"'fraid not, Warren." he said, his southern accent evident as he spoke. The man was good friends with Beca's dad. The two were in college together in Mississippi, but both moved to Oklahoma, and that's where Warren met Beca's mother. So their accents were more southern than those of Barden, Oklahoma, population: not that many. "Eye witnesses claim to've seen yer daughter fleein' the scene of a crime tonight."

"I'm sure that's-"

"-Y'ever heard of Arson, Miss Mitchell?" he asked Beca, and the brunette sniffed, nodding slowly. "Then y'know that it's illegal, don't ya?"

She nodded again.

"What are you trying to get at here, McCormick?"

"We're gonna have to bring 'er in for questionin' again. I'm sorry, Warren."

"No. She's-"

"-Dad, it's okay." Beca said, her throat dry and her voice small.

She stepped out from behind him and for the first time since he arrived, Officer Dave McCormick noticed the state of the sixteen year old. His nose turned up, and Beca gulped.

"Follow me, Miss Mitchell." he said, leading her to his police car.

A half hour later, Beca was sat in one of the interrogation rooms, her eyes seemingly burning a hole in the wall. Her head was throbbing, and she could still feel the burning of her skin. Images flashed in her mind. The spitting of the sparks, and the whipping of the flames. It seemed like her head was going to set on fire if she thought about it any more than she needed to. Fortunately though, the door opened, and officer McCormick walked in, his thumbs tucked in the belt of his jeans, and his police hat sat comfortably on his head.

"So.. Re-bec-ca." he drew out her name, knowing that she hated when people called her that. "What can ya tell me about tonight?"

The brunette breathed in, having been in this situation a few times before. Although, not for Arson, that's for sure.

"I went to the barn at around eight-"

"-Why were you there?"

"Can I finish my sentence?"

The man just nodded, sitting down on the table, a little too close for her liking.

"I needed to write, and my dad was working in the garden, and I couldn't concentrate with all the banging. So I went to the barn, and I sat on a stack of hay, and I started to write. I must have fallen asleep and by the time I woke up, the barn was in flames. I don't know how, and I don't know who did it. I just know that it was on fire while I was in there. Hence why I'm covered in dust and ash, and cuts and grazes."

"Why didn't ya stick around when the police an' ambulance got here so ya could be checked out?"

"Because it was past my curfew and I knew that my dad would be worried about me."

"So you'd rather risk bleedin' to death in the woods than to get professional medics to treat ya?"

"I was hardly gonna bleed to death, it's a small cut."

"Don't look like it to me."

"I didn't do it." she snapped irritatedly, looking up at him with narrow eyes.

"Y'sure about that?"

"Do you have any proof of me causing this fire? You really think I would do this to myself?!" she asked, pointing to her collarbone.

"I don't know. Maybe yer looking for compensation. You and yer daddy aren't exactly the richest people in this town."

"People already think I'm a piece of shit, why would I want to make that worse? And then act all innocent about it? You really think that I'd do all this just for a bit of money? Or recognition? Or pride? Gratification doesn't mean shit in a town like this and you know it."

His eyes squinted as he looked down at her, as if contemplating what he could do next. However, he had to let her go, because really, he had no proof that she did it. He just knew she was in there. And you'd think that he'd be a little more sympathetic over the fact that she almost died, but apparently not.

When Beca got out of the station, her dad was there waiting for her. God, all she wanted to do was go have a shower.

"I need a shower." she said. Her dad nodded and hugged her. No more words needed to be said.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I had to change the date in chapter 1 to 1993 because I needed to to make sure the story flowed. I'm aware that a few facts in this story will be incorrect but I've tried to make it as realistic as possible. Also, the book that Chloe is reading in this chapter doesn't actually exist, I made it up. It'll be quite an important part of the story. I don't want to give too much away though, but I'm excited for this story, and I'm excited for you all to read it. Thank you if you've already Reviewed and Favorited as well. That's awesome.**

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><p><strong><em>Two years later - June 1995<em>**

Chloe shuffled downstairs, counting the steps as she went. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen. She didn't know why she felt the need to count. It's not like someone broke in during the night and took a step away, or added a step because, well who would do that anyway? Surely if you were to commit a felony by breaking and entering, you wouldn't take a _step._

But that was the thing about Chloe Beale. She just liked to make sure. She liked to make sure that she woke up not a minute after six thirty - seven at the latest. And she liked to make sure that she went to bed at exactly nine sixteen, or exactly ten forty six. She liked to plan accordingly. The average adult human took fourteen minutes to fall asleep, which meant that if she went to bed at nine sixteen, she would fall asleep at around nine thirty, a "scientifically proven" sleep cycle, which meant that she'd get exactly nine hours sleep. But if she went to bed after nine thirty, she would have to wait until ten forty six, so then she'd fall asleep at eleven o'clock, another "scientifically proven" sleep cycle. And she'd wake up at seven, because the recommended time for girls her age was eight hours, so she'd have exactly eight hours sleep.

Call her pedantic but that's just how she was.

She liked to make sure of things. So she made sure to count the thirteen steps, and there was in fact, exactly thirteen steps. Nobody had taken one away. She made her way to the kitchen; the joyous smell of coffee and the odious smell of bacon, or what seemed to be bacon, or some other kind of wretched meat, floating through the house. The contradiction of the two made her nose turn up. Chloe was a vegetarian, hence why when she noticed it was in fact bacon in the kitchen, she scrunched her face up and walked straight to the cupboard, pulling out a mug and placing it on the counter. She poured herself a coffee, putting one and a half sugars in it, and stirring it ten times, before walking around the table and sitting down, crossing one leg over the other.

"Hey you." her father greeted, looking at his watch. "You're up early."

It was five twenty-two.

"Couldn't sleep." she just answered. Those two words being the only words said because 1. it was true, and 2. she hadn't had a full cup of caffeine in her system yet, and 3. she couldn't form a coherent sentence until she had her morning coffee, because she was 4. tired from being literally up all night due to the fact that she was 5. graduating High School tomorrow.

"Right, well.. I gotta get to work, but don't be late for school. I'll see you later." He kissed her on the top of her head and she smiled, and that was it before he was out of the door.

Not long after, at five thirty six, her mother appeared in her usual pant-suit, with a smile on her face. It bewildered Chloe how peppy her mother was in the morning, with or without a cup of coffee.

"Morning sunshine." Olive said, opting on drinking a glass of apple juice instead of coffee. Which also bewildered Chloe.

"Hey."

"Chloe."

"Yeah?"

"You haven't drunk your coffee. Are you okay?"

Chloe's eyebrows knitted together, and she looked down to see that she in fact, hadn't even took a sip of her coffee.

"What's the matter, honey?" Olive asked, and Chloe shrugged.

"I don't know, I guess my mind is somewhere else."

"And where exactly is this mind of yours? Am I going to have to send out a search warrant for it?"

"That's not necessary."

Her mother walked around the table to where Chloe was sat, and she held the back of her hand up to Chloe's forehead and shook her head.

"You don't have a temperature. You sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm just nervous." Chloe shrugged. "I graduate High School tomorrow, and it's weird to think about the fact that I'm not gonna see the school again. Like, I'm never gonna have my own locker to fill with crap, and I'm never gonna have to drive up that stupid road that has those stupid potholes in that I almost fell down that one time in Junior year."

Chloe's mother just smiled, placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder.

"But you're going to university, sweetie, and you'll be making even better memories there. At least you'll be going to the same college as Aubrey. It's not like you're going to lose her."

"I haven't been accepted yet, don't jinx me."

"I believe in you baby girl."

Chloe just smiled, signalling the end of the conversation. And Olive understood her daughter, so she went back to drinking her apple juice.

"I keep telling your father to stop making bacon but he just doesn't listen to me."

"It's okay, mom, it's not like the smell is gonna poison me."

"You never know."

"Well, you never really know anything."

Chloe's mother didn't have an answer for that.

At five fifty eight, Chloe drank her coffee, despite it being cold, because she couldn't continue the day without some coffee, be it cold or not, and then she went upstairs to get ready for her second-to-last day at High School.

Wasn't she supposed to feel excited?

Her mom shouted up at six fifteen that she was going to work. She answered with a nod, even though her mother couldn't see her.

After getting changed into blue denim jeans and a white tank top that said "I'd like to chat but I" and then a picture of a moustache on it, she picked her book up off of the floor, where she had been reading it last night, and took it downstairs with her. She decided to read for a while, until her phone started ringing at eight fifteen, and she looked at the caller ID to see that it was Aubrey.

She answered the phone with a "hey" while finishing a sentence in the book, her eyes darting back and forth between words. When has she ever been able to just stop at a sentence? When Chloe reads, she _reads_. As soon as she picks a book up, it's practically impossible to put it back down.

"I'm outside, where are you?"

"I'll literally be out in two minutes." Chloe said before hanging up while still reading the book. She walked to the kitchen, where her bag was sat on the table. She only tore her eyes away from the page to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, or to make sure she wasn't going to fall over anything. And she was still reading her book when she opened the door to Aubrey's Porsche convertible, which was passed down to her from her older brother and dates back to nineteen forty one, but it still looks like it's just come out of the car showroom. Aubrey's parents were both lawyers, which is why Aubrey had such a nice car. And it wasn't nice, so much as girly. It had pink freakin' dice in it after all.

But apparently that's a perk of having two lawyers as parents. The best lawyers in Barden. Not that there were many lawyers in Barden, due to it being only a small town of just over seven thousand in the state of Oklahoma, but Aubrey's parents were the best, and Aubrey felt the need to be the best, which is why she's the most popular girl in school. And Chloe felt a little intimidated at the fact that her best friend was the most popular girl in school, but then she realised that she too, was one of the most popular girls in school - she doesn't exactly understand how that happened - as well as their other best friend, Stacie Conrad. And she'd like to think that it made her feel better knowing that she was one of the most popular girls in school, but it didn't.

"What're you reading?" Aubrey asked her as she set off driving to school.

"It's called 'Out Of The Sky And Into Your Arms' by Augustus Kelson." Chloe answered with a smile while simultaneously putting her seatbelt on. "It's about this guy called Nate, who's daughter, Katy, went missing, but then he meets the shady woman called Jennifer, who gives him all these hidden clues that tell him his daughter is still alive. It's like, a total mystery because he has no idea whether Katy is alive or not, but he also has all these problems with the police and everything. It's so cool."

It wasn't until Chloe looked up from staring at the book cover, which was just a picture of a window, that she noticed that Aubrey wasn't even paying attention to her.

They pulled up to the school driveway at promptly eight forty-six, four minutes before the first bell went. Aubrey drove up to her usual parking spot, next to where Stacie was making out with her boyfriend, Luke, against her car. Luke was the captain of the football team, and best friends with Aubrey's boyfriend, Jesse Swanson, who was also on the football team, although he wasn't as good as Luke, but Aubrey liked to tell him that she thought he was awesome, and he liked that.

"If you guys stop long enough to remove your tongues from each other's throats you'll notice that it's time for class." Chloe said, and they both pulled away from each other, Luke wiping the lipstick off of his stained lips, and blushing when Stacie whispered something in his ear.

"You bitches ready to graduate?" Stacie asked Chloe and Aubrey as they all made their way into the building. Another privilege of being Aubrey Posen meant that Stacie, Aubrey and Chloe were all put into the same classes, because apparently Aubrey was unable to learn unless she was with her friends because they motivate her and help her understand the work. But that translated in Aubrey language is: she needs to be in the same class as Chloe so she can copy her notes whenever she decides to skip class.

The first class they had was calculus, which Chloe was really good at. Contrary to popular belief, Chloe is a really smart girl. She probably wouldn't even be friends with Aubrey, leading her to be one of the most popular girls in school, if it wasn't for the fact that she has known Aubrey since kindergarten. And Aubrey could be a bitch sometimes - okay, most times, - but she's not a shitty person, and she wouldn't stop being friends with Chloe after knowing her almost all her life just because she knew how to solve Exponential Functions.

About forty minutes into first period, Chloe recieved a text from Aubrey, despite the fact that she was a row in front and two seats down. It read:

**BREE:** What did u get for question 4?

Chloe sighed. She had completed that question about five minutes after starting. She turned back to the page she had started on, and copied down the answer into the text box on her phone.

Thirty seconds later, she received a text from Stacie asking her the same question.

Her next class was English, which she had a spur of the moment decision to skip, because there was apparently a pop quiz which she was unaware of, which even Stacie studied for. It was on Shakespeare, which Chloe wasn't very fond of. No, Chloe was fond of Augustus Kelson, and Out Of The Sky And Into Your Arms, and Nate and Jennifer and Katy, and she was so close to finishing the book. So she spent second period on the roof reading. The roof was out of bounds, but nobody ever went up there, and it's not like the first place they'd think of looking is the roof, so it was safe. Unless she fell off. That wouldn't make it very safe. But she never went to the edge, so she wouldn't fall off. It was in fact safe. And it has been for her whole High School career.

Luckily, her, Aubrey and Stacie, had a free period before lunch, so they decided to drive to the diner just ten minutes away. Stacie ordered a large milkshake because she was apparently on a diet, but she couldn't be on a diet if she was drinking a milkshake, because it had 610.0 calories in it, which was just over a quarter of an average human's usual intake, and like, 23.0g of fat and like, no vitamins whatsoever.

"But it's strawberry." Stacie argued. It only made sense for Chloe to just let her be, with her cup of nothing but calories and fat and cholesterol, because Stacie never listened to her.

Aubrey ordered a salad, except she told them to hold the tomatoes, because apparently they give her hives, and when it arrived it was basically just a small plate of green. Chloe ordered an iced tea and a veggie burger - a _normal_ meal - which earned a gasp from Stacie, and an eye roll towards Stacie from Aubrey.

"That's so bad for you!" Stacie said, and Chloe shrugged.

"It's bad for _you._ I'm not the one who's on a diet."

"But it's like, so fatty."

"There are around three hundred and three calories in this burger." Chloe said. "That's three hundred and seven less than what's in your 'healthy' strawberry milkshake."

Aubrey's eyebrows shot up, and she bit her lip as she looked over at Stacie. The brunette just stayed quiet though, before she reached over and took Chloe's burger out of her hands. She took a bite, ignoring how Chloe and Aubrey were laughing at her, before putting it back on Chloe's plate.

"You guys suck." she said with her mouth still full of burger and lettuce and bread bun and ketchup. They just laughed though, and eventually, Stacie joined in.

After lunch, they all made their way back to school, with the hood of the car pulled down, and the music turned up. Madonna's 'Like a Virgin' was playing, and Stacie turned it up while claiming that this song was her jam. It wasn't that Chloe disliked the song, it was just that... she preferred other songs. So Chloe read her book, trying to ignore the fact that Aubrey and Stacie were singing at the top of their voices as they pulled back into the school parking lot, because she had got to a part in the book where it turns out that Jennifer has bipolar, and she's trying to kill Nate. And there were about thirty pages left of the book, which scared her because there was so much that still needed to be resolved.

Next, she had music class for two hours, in which she would just be playing the same tune on the piano that her music teacher had insisted she should learn, even though she basically knows it off-by-heart now.

"I can't believe we're graduating tomorrow." Chloe said as they walked back into school, and Aubrey and Stacie both turned around and smiled at her.

"I know!" Stacie said. "Aren't you excited?!"

"Yeah, I just.." she then went on to explain what she had told her mother this morning. That she's 1. never gonna see the school again, or 2. fill her locker up with crap and textbooks and more crap, and she's 3. never gonna have to go up the driveway where those stupid potholes are that - and she doesn't want to sound bitter - she almost fell down that one time in junior year.

"Oh God, I remember that. Didn't Beca Mitchell stop you from stepping in it?" Stacie laughed. Chloe just smiled a small, nervous smile.

"Yeah.. she did."

"Speaking of her.." Aubrey said, dropping her voice to a low whisper. "She apparently got busted last night for underage drinking again."

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean.. if you're gonna get wasted, at least do it where someone won't see you."

Chloe just frowned.

"I gotta head to class." she said.

"Hey, you coming to the beach after school?" Aubrey asked before she managed to shuffle away, and she turned around and shrugged with an apologetic look, saying, "Rain check?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Bree, it's graduation tomorrow." Stacie said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, and?"

"And.. what will we be doing after graduation? Having a hella awesome celebration of freedom party, that's what!"

"Hella?" Aubrey asked, at the same time Chloe said "I thought we had a celebration of freedom party after prom."

"It's a Californian thing." Stacie said, answering Aubrey, "and yes, we did have a celebration of freedom party after prom, but that was like.. obligationed."

"Obligatory." Chloe corrected her.

"Sorry to break it to you honey," Aubrey said, "but we're in Oklahoma, not California."

"I know, I'm not stupid."

"I beg to differ."

Stacie laughed sarcastically, before turning to look at Chloe. "Come to the beach after school. Please."

"I can't, my mom's making dinner, which is rare in my house. I'll hang out tomorrow though, I promise."

"Okay, well Luke's having a party. We'll talk more about it tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll text you guys later." Chloe said with a smile. And with that, she turned around and made her way to class, leaving Aubrey and Stacie at their lockers discussing whether Hella was an actual word or not. Turns out, it is. Chloe asked Mary-Elise in music class, who had moved here last year from California.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my buddy sherralotz on tumblr, whose birthday is today. Happy birthday dude!**

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><p>When Chloe got home at three thirty that day, she was slightly confused to see a red pick up truck in her driveway, as well as both her father's black Honda and her mother's silver Mercedes. Her dad was the owner of Barden's most popular restaurant - thanks to his parents who had left him with tens of thousands after they passed away - which was just up the road, and her mother was a lawyer, just like Aubrey's parents, which is why they had pretty nice cars, unlike the rest of Barden who mostly just had red or blue or white or black pick up trucks, because they were more affordable than a small Honda. And more efficient. So the truck in her driveway could be anybody's.<p>

She walked up to the door and opened it, announcing her presence to her parents, who seemed to be talking to someone in the kitchen. Before she could head up to her room, she heard her father asking her to come into the kitchen. So she did, after she put her book and bag on the sofa in the living room.

Waiting for her in the kitchen was none other than Beca Mitchell, and her father Warren.

"Hi." Chloe said, walking over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.

"Chloe, this is Beca." Olive said with a smile.

Chloe knew who Beca Mitchell was. What she didn't know though, was why she was in her kitchen.

"She's gonna be working for us over the summer in the garden."

Ah, that's why. Did that really require a formal introduction like this though?

"What's wrong with the garden?"

"Nothing, we just thought it needed a little work doing. Some gardening and putting a new fence up. Nothing major. And Beca's in need of some work so her father asked if she could help us. Isn't that nice?"

Chloe nodded, not taking her eyes off of Beca, who was sat at the table with her head down, as if she was a puppy being scolded for chewing up a slipper. Chloe found it weird that she was comparing Beca Mitchell to a puppy eating a slipper, but everything else was weird right now, so why not? Why did they hire Beca and not some strong macho man who can probably, _actually_ build a fence in less than two days? Not that she was mad or anything. She had nothing against Beca Mitchell. But her parents always told her that Beca Mitchell was a bad influence, and her best friend absolutely despised Beca Mitchell, so doesn't that mean she should despise her too? Apparently that was like, the rule of being best friends. To hate the same things as them. And she's heard the stories about Beca Mitchell. Whether they're true or not, she doesn't know.

All she does know is that Beca Mitchell is gonna be working at her house all summer, which means she'll be seeing her like, a lot, which is also weird because regardless of how much she knows about this girl, who allegedly burned down the barn two years ago, she's only ever seen her two times in her whole life. One time when she was ten, when she decided to take her drawing pad into the woods to escape from her parents friend's sister's daughter who was at her house, bugging her about how "you can't make a career out of drawing, it's a stupid hobby, don't you learn anything at school?" despite how she was only ten years old, and she didn't need to be worrying about a career at ten years old. She had seen Beca perched on a large branch a few feet above her, writing something in a black journal. She didn't question her. She just carried on walking.

The other time was when Beca "rescued" her from falling in a pothole and breaking her ankle. It wasn't so much as a heroic rescue, but more like, Chloe walking up to school and then suddenly, Beca was pulling her by the arm, and Chloe thought she was gonna get punched in the face or something, because Beca's grip was like, really strong, and she was kinda terrified for a split second. But then Beca told her to watch where she was going, as she pointed to the pothole, and Chloe finally said thank you after like, an hour of staring at Beca. Or what felt like it. In reality it was probably like, three seconds, but Chloe liked to think they shared a moment.

"When will you be starting?" Chloe asked Beca. She would have asked her parents, but she thought it was kind of rude to ask "when is _she_ starting?" because she's _right there_, and she's not invisible, and it's kind of like in fourth grade when you would tell someone to say something to another person, despite the fact that the other person was standing right next to you and they could hear you anyway. Yeah, that'd be very rude of Chloe, and Chloe's not a rude person.

"Saturday." Beca answered quietly.

Chloe nodded, putting the cap back on her water and pointing her thumb back towards the living room.

"I'm going to read."

"We'll shout you when dinner is ready."

Chloe could feel Beca's eyes on her as she walked out of the room, but she didn't think much of it. As soon as she made it to her room and shut the door behind her, the redhead pulled her phone out of her bag and immediately texted Stacie.

**CHLOE:** You'll never guess who my parents have hired to work in the garden over summer.

**STACIE:** Who?

**CHLOE:** Beca Mitchell.

**STACIE:** ARE THEY CRAZY?!

**CHLOE:** That's what I thought. Don't tell Bree, she'll flip out.

**STACIE:** She's gonna find out sooner or later.

**CHLOE:** Well I'd prefer it if she found out from me. Don't tell her.

**STACIE:** OK, you have my word.

The two continued to text back and forth, Chloe explaining that Beca will be working in her garden over the summer because she needs money, and she'll be putting up a fence, and probably planting a tree, because God knows how long Chloe's dad has gone on about wanting an apple tree in the garden, even though there's one literally up the road. And before Chloe knew it, it was time for dinner. Her mother had made veggie lasagne, and she didn't usually cook, but when she did; boy was it amazing.

After dinner, she decided to play the piano for a while.

The old, mahogany, grand piano stood in the corner of her average-sized room. A desk sat against the back wall along with an old-fashioned typewriter in the middle of it. Some pencils and pens, some paper and notebooks were spread across the desk, along with two piles of papers on the right-hand side - Chloe's half-finished assignment drafts that she keeps forgetting to throw away. A swivel chair was tucked under the desk, with two floating shelves attached to the wall. The shelves held quite a few books, and an even bigger book-case stood on the right-hand side of the room, with three beanbags in the corner, and a double bed against the wall to the left. Three of the walls were painted white and one of the walls was covered in floral wallpaper. This was her getaway.

Technically, it was her bedroom.

But it was her getaway too. Especially when she was playing the piano. Or writing, or drawing. She was learning a new tune. La Leggierezza by Jorge Bolet.

Chloe liked to think that music was the rhythm of the soul. She liked to think that it flew through her veins, and swirled in her head, and transcended the everyday monotony of the world to make the day a new journey of sounds. To her, music was life and life was music. To other people, music was just something you listened to when you were bored, or when you were trying to avoid awkward silences. Another thing Chloe liked to make sure of is that she wouldn't lose her music touch.

She started playing the piano when she was nine. Back then, she wasn't as invested in it. Not until she was thirteen and her dad started to talk to her about how his father taught him the basics and fundamentals of it, and his father taught him, and his father taught his father, and so on. He introduced her to different famous artists and composers. Mozart. Beethoven. Glenn Gould. Bach. Frédéric Chopin. Claude Debussy. (Gould was and still is her favourite.)

He would spend hours teaching her these different covers and tunes, until she could play them almost perfectly. He was patient with her, and she with him. It wasn't until she realised that all these songs and tunes and rhythms and symphonies, were nothing but sound, made up of the same old eighty-eight black and white keys, which had been pressed an infinite number of times, and she wasn't playing for the rhythm of the soul any more. She was just playing for the rhythm. That's when she started to write songs to go with the music. She once heard that songs are emotions, expressed in such a way that only the soul understands. So she decided that if she added a song to the tune, then she'd be playing for the rhythm of the soul again, because the music was the rhythm and the words were her soul.

After playing for a while, she stood up from the piano and rolled her shoulders back, her neck moving from side to side as she tried to get rid of the strain. Her fingers were twitching, and her butt was numb, but she felt great. She decided to read a little bit more of her book before getting ready for bed at nine. She managed to actually get into bed just in time tonight, at nine sixteen, so she'd be up at promptly six thirty. It wasn't until she felt herself drifting off at nine twenty-nine, that she remembered that she was graduating tomorrow.

She was wide awake at nine thirty.

On the occasional morning, Chloe liked to watch the sunrise. She would wake up especially early in the stronghold to watch the colours merging into neon pink and peach and yellow, and colours that she didn't even know existed until she witnessed the magic beneath the veiled sun. Mighty colours splashed the clouds, and it was bright and mesmerising, as if inviting her in. She noticed that the sky was more red than yellow, and the saying "Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning" flashed in her mind.

She liked to watch the sunrises because after all, she could only see so many. Not in a way that she was dying and she didn't have long left, but in a way that nobody knew what would happen tomorrow. The sun might not rise tomorrow. The sun might not even go down tonight, meaning that she'd never get to witness a sunrise again, because how can a sun rise when it's already in the sky? Nobody knew, not even the most apt and intelligent scientists in the world. Sure, they could see into space, and they could predict what the weather would be like, and they could tell whether an asteroid was going to fall from space apparently, but all of that could change at any minute. So Chloe liked to make sure that she made the most of the sunrises.

Once again, after a quick shower, at seven twenty-two Chloe counted the steps. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and thirteen. Nobody had taken a step away. She made her way to the kitchen again, where her parents were sat at the table, her dad drinking his coffee and her mom eating a slice of toast.

She decided to toast a bagel, and she poured herself a cup of black coffee before sitting down at the table with her parents.

"You alright Chlo-bear?" William asked her. Chloe just nodded with a tight-lipped smile.

"Are you excited for today?"

"Sorta. I kind of just want it to be over already."

"You mean you kind of just want to skip graduation and get drunk?" her mother asked, and Chloe laughed.

That was one thing she loved about her parents. They weren't strict, like most parents in Barden. They didn't mind her being out late, as long as she was home by eleven, and as long as she called when she was on her way home. They let her drink alcohol, just as long as she wasn't throwing up all night and had a killer hangover the next morning. The only thing they didn't allow was drugs, and boys in her room. She was eighteen after all. Legally, she could just walk out of the house and never come back, because she's an adult now. The thing is though, Chloe wouldn't do that. Her parents trusted her, and Chloe wouldn't want to let them down.

"I think Luke's having a party tonight actually, can I go?"

"Does Luke's parents know about this party?"

"Yes."

"Will there be alcohol?"

"Probably."

"Then yes."

"Wait, why did you say yes after I said there will be alcohol?"

"Because you were honest, and that's good enough for us. Just as long as you're home by eleven then we're fine with it."

Chloe smiled, and her dad stood up and kissed her on the top of her head, before walking over to put his empty cup in the sink.

"You better start getting ready Chloe, you don't want to be late."

"Your gown is ironed, right?" her mom asked, and Chloe nodded as she stood up to put her plate and cup in the sink.

Upstairs, her green Barden High School graduation gown was laying on her bed. She decided to wear a blue plaid dress underneath it, and kept her hair down in loose curls, like how it usually was. Once she was ready, at eight thirty the three of them went in her father's car, pulling up to the school parking lot next to the hundreds of senior students who were all also dressed in their green gowns. Some of them were already crying. Chloe just managed an eye roll at them. Maybe some people are actually gonna _really_ miss this place.

She spotted Stacie and Aubrey straight away, talking to Jesse and Luke, and a few other of their friends; Jessica, Ashley, Cynthia-Rose and Alice, stood near the 'Class of 95 banner' at the school entrance.

"-I heard she doesn't get to graduate because she's been in rehab."

"Hey guys." Chloe said, interrupting the conversation. "What're you talking about?"

"Apparently Beca Mitchell isn't graduating today." Aubrey said. "I heard someone say she got busted for selling coke so she's been expelled and she won't be getting her diploma."

"That's bullshit."

"You never know."

Chloe just sighed and rolled her eyes, looking at Stacie to see that her and Luke were making out again.

"Seriously guys? It's graduation day. Dial the PDA down a notch, yeah?"

Graduation day. It was finally here. The moment of truth; the stepping stone to the real world; the start of her life, and whatnot and so forth etc. This was what she had been preparing for. After thirteen memorable years, it was time to step into the spotlight and shake the hand of an administrator, and grab her ticket to freedom. All she had to do was wait for her name to be called, and she'd be free.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Once again, I fixed the mistakes last chapter. I need to start reading the chapters a thousand times to check everything is correct before posting. People seemed to be a little sarcastic with reviews, saying that Chloe's parents wouldn't be able to afford two cars with their jobs, so Chloe's mom is now a lawyer, like Aubrey's parents, and Chloe's dad owns a successful restaurant which he opened with the money passed down from his parents. Hope that's good enough for y'all.**

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><p>So maybe Chloe was overreacting. This wasn't her ticket to freedom, or her first step into the real world. This was just the end of another school year. And an excuse for a huge party. Which, she wasn't exactly complaining about, but like.. she thought it'd be more fun.<p>

The party scene was actually awesome. Luke's parents were filthy rich, and they were out of town for the weekend. They said he could have a few friends around, but come on now.. everyone knows that "a few friends" means a party with all of the Seniors, and even some college freshmen. And sure, it was a small town, and his parents will hear about the big party sooner or later, but it was their graduation party. That was the only excuse they needed. Plus, she wasn't responsible for cleaning the house tomorrow, and that was good enough for her.

Oh, and it turns out that the rumours about Beca Mitchell were in fact wrong. She hadn't been caught selling drugs, and she wasn't in rehab because of a coke addiction. She was in fact at the ceremony, and she recieved her diploma too. It kind of shut everybody up about her for a while. But again, the rumours started to spread a few hours after the ceremony. Chloe even overheard someone saying that Beca had been arrested for destruction of property after school again yesterday, which couldn't have been true, because Beca was at her house yesterday after school. Seriously, where do people get all of this information from?

She looked around, taking in the scene around her. She was currently in the dining room, sitting down at the table with a drink in her hand. She had no idea what it was, but it didn't taste nice.

There were around a hundred people, just at the party alone. Not to mention that it was only around seven forty and more people would probably be coming later on. Chloe hardly knew any of the people in the dining room. There were a few people she recognized from her Calc class, and a few people from English, but other than that, she was clueless. There were four people sat at the other side of the room; one girl and three other guys. The girl sat on the floor between two of the boys, her short and thin figure looking like a child's compared to theirs. Judging by the Varsity jumpers, two of them looked like they were on the football team with Jesse and Luke. The other boy was just wearing a lumberjack shirt and ripped jeans, with his shaggy hair tucked under his grey beanie. The girl was good-looking too, with long brown hair, and a charming smile. She was sat back, smoking a blunt, and occasionally passing it to one of the boys. The taller of the three guys was laid back on the wall, his eyes scanning the room as he took a puff of the joint, before passing it to one of the other, more muscular boys. The taller one then leaned down and whispered something in the girl's ear, and the two of them laughed.

Chloe found herself feeling jealous. Of all the people at the party, she was jealous of these three people, whom she'd never even met before, sat smoking a blunt in the dining room of Luke's house. They seemed cool, and although everyone at this party knew her, she wanted to know who they were, and why she wanted to be them so bad.

"Chloe!"

The redhead abruptly turned her head to see who had called her name. It was Stacie. The girl was drunk. Like, one-more-drink-in-Stacie's-system-would-probably-cause-her-to-black-out-and-not-wake-up-for-at-least-seventy-two-hours drunk. It made Chloe giggle to see her friend in that state.

"Come do shots with me!" she yelled as she stumbled towards Chloe, the slur evident in her voice. It made Chloe laugh again.

"Can't you ask Bree?"

"I don't know where she is!" Stacie yelled as she leaned over the table. "She's probably upstairs fucking Jesse. Come on! Tequila shots!"

"Oh Christ. No. You know what tequila does to me."

Now Chloe isn't proud of this. Not at all. But basically, tequila is her kryptonite. And she found this out when she was a sophomore. Her, Stacie and Aubrey had been invited to a Senior's party. There was alcohol involved, which Chloe had only ever tried once at a family party the year before. But one too many, and Chloe was hammered. She would jump on random people's backs, claiming that piggy backs were now her only form of transportation because she was allergic to the floor, which turned into her having to jump from one person to another, without touching the ground. The party also happened to be a glow-stick party, which led her to steal everyone's glow-sticks. At the end of the night she had a pounding head and seventy eight glow-sticks stuffed into her backpack.

Needless to say, Chloe's never had tequila since.

"Come on! One shot!"

"Stacie, I-"

"-Pleeeease! It's our last party as High Schoolers and I need to get plastered!"

She was pulling Chloe's arm now. Literally and figuratively. So the redhead sighed, putting her cup down on the table, standing up, and following Stacie into the kitchen.

The tall brunette passed her a shot glass and a lime, before going to the fridge and getting the bottle of tequila out, shouting over the music that "this is the good stuff, this is gonna be so great!" While Stacie poured the tequila into the shot glasses, and went to the cupboard to get some salt, Chloe rummaged through the drawers for a knife so she could cut the lime into six slices. Once everything was ready, the two licked their hands before sprinkling some salt on them.

"Ready?" Stacie asked, a huge, drunken smile on her face as she picked up the lime on the hand which had the salt on, and held the shot glass in her other hand.

"Yeah." Chloe said after doing the same.

She took a deep breath, before licking the salt off of her hand, already feeling the bitter taste invade her taste buds. She then downed the shot, the tequila shooting to the back of her throat and burning it, before quickly slamming the glass down and biting into the lime. The three tastes mingled, mixing into something intoxicating, and Chloe stood unsteady, her heels suddenly causing a problem in her trying to stand still, and she licked her lips. Stacie giggled, and Chloe couldn't help but laugh along with her.

"Another?"

"Hell yeah."

A few hours later, at around ten past ten, Chloe was pretty much intoxicated. She could feel the earth rocking beneath her, and her mind drifting in and out like the tide, and her vision wavered every time she tried to focus her eyes. She was talking to this boy. Tom, she thought his name was. Although, he was the one talking. She was just kind of.. looking at him. She wasn't listening to what he was saying because of course, that'd mean she'd actually have to multi-task, which she had only just mastered while she was sober, never mind drunk.

She could feel herself drifting closer to Tom, and she could feel her hand on his thigh, and if she could, she'd be able to count the freckles on his cheeks because they were that close to each other. But all she could see were his eyes and how beautifully green they looked under the lighting. And then she was kissing him. She didn't know who kissed who first, but she kind of didn't really have time to question it, because she felt someone tug on the back of her dress, pulling her away from the boy who smelled like beer and sweat mixed with too much men's cologne; the strong type that was so thick and disgusting smelling that she felt like she was swallowing it.

It was Aubrey who dragged her from Tom, with an unreadable expression on her face as she pulled Chloe out of the house and into the front garden.

"Hey. Dude, I can totally feel the earth moving on it's axis right now." Chloe giggled.

"Chloe, I really love you, you know that?"

"Yes." Chloe said, grabbing onto Aubrey's arm for leverage. "I love you too Bree."

"So, I'm sending you home. That's how much I love you."

"What? Noooo!"

"Chloe, y-"

"-I'm not going!"

"Chloe!" Aubrey snapped, holding onto Chloe's shoulders to stop her from struggling in her arms.

"What?"

"You're gonna end up doing something stupid if you don't get home now. And your mom called me earlier to make sure you got home by eleven. It's now almost twenty past ten. You gotta go home, babe."

The redhead pouted, pulling her arms from Aubrey's grasp.

"Fine." she mumbled, before storming back into the house. She had left her bag and coat under Luke's bed, and she'd be damned if she forgot them. Her bag did have her book in after all, and she wouldn't be able to go a day without it. She quickly went upstairs, making her way to Luke's bedroom, but stopping just as she was about to open the door.

"Seriously?!" she whined, hearing moaning noises coming from inside the room. She looked around. There was nobody around that could help her, or that she could bribe to go in there and get her belongings for her. So instead, she just whispered "fuck it" and opened the door.

Luckily, whoever they were, were under the covers.

"I'm sorry guys, I'm just getting my bag and I'll leave." she said, turning the light on and quickly dropping to her knees, looking under the bed to see that her coat and bag were both where she left them. The two people in the bed didn't even seem to notice her - or if they did, they weren't fazed by it - as she quickly turned the light off and ran out, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Oh God," she said, cringing internally, before making her way back downstairs and out of the house.

She would like to say that she remembered her way home from Luke's house, but that would mean she actually paid attention when they were on the way there, and she in fact didn't. Which was a big problem. Because right now, she couldn't tell one road from another.

She had a song stuck in her head. Poison's 'Every Rose Has It's Thorn'. It was a dumb song, she thought. It was playing at the party, and for some reason, she actually liked it. But now that she was sobering up, she didn't. And it's not that it was a bad song. It was just.. depressing. Chloe liked to feel happy when it came to music. She didn't want to be walking down the street humming to this song that just has over-dramatic-driving-away-in-a-cab-to-start-a-new-life-and-leaving-your-boyfriend-of-two-years-behind-because-he-allegedly-cheated-on-you written all over it. Seriously, she thinks, just add some rain and you've got yourself a perfect movie ending.

But then five minutes later, it started raining, and she immediately took that comment back.

"Seriously?!" She yelled at nobody in particular, complete with a stamp of her foot and widening her arms out, because she's already cold as it is, and she doesn't need it to rain, especially when she's so far from home.

She stood there for a moment under the gloomy, pitch black sky. The water began to sprinkle down, cold and wet on her skin. She stood there for a while, her gaze fixed ahead of her as she thought about what she must look like right now. A drunk girl dressed in a dress and heels, walking home in the pouring down rain, soaking wet hair now stuck to her head, and her mascara smudging under her eyes where she had wiped them. The rain started to get heavier, and she didn't even bother to try and cover her hair; she just put her coat on with a deep sigh. Even the rain smelled like rain, and Chloe was actually surprised her inebriated brain noticed that.

Just then, she heard the sound of a car coming up behind her on the road, and she abruptly turned around to see the blinding headlights shining straight at her.

Oh, what the heck.

"Hey!" she yelled, throwing her arm up and raising it above her head a few times, sighing in relief when the driver stopped beside her.

The owner of the car - well, now that the headlights weren't shining in her eyes, Chloe realised it was a red pick up truck - reached over and opened the door, and the redhead immediately jumped in, muttering "thank you so much" before shutting the door behind her.

It was only when she turned to look at the driver a few seconds later, that she saw it was none other than Beca Mitchell.

"Oh. Beca! Hey!"

"I could have been an axe murderer." she said monotonously, and Chloe let's out a soft laugh. Only, Beca wasn't laughing. She wasn't even smiling. So Chloe just breathed out a heavy breath of air.

"It's a good job you're not, right?"

"I could be if I wanted to."

"Right." Chloe nodded.

"Why are you out so late?"

"I could ask the same to you."

"You're in my truck, I'm the one who's asking the questions here."

"Isn't this your dad's truck?"

"Chloe." Beca said, and the redhead could sense the aggravation in her voice.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just.. there was this party at Luke's house, and Stacie made me do tequila shots, and honestly, don't _ever_ give me tequila. So then there was this guy and he kissed me, and now that I think about it, it was kinda gross. It was actually really gross because I think he was high and I hate drugs. Then Aubrey made me go home, and I was humming Every Rose Has It's Thorn and I was thinking, hey, this would make a great movie ending, or climax, I don't know. And then it started raining and now I'm here."

"You talk really fast."

"Thanks. I think."

Beca sighed.

"You want me to take you home?"

"Yes please."

"Put your seatbelt on."

On the way back to Chloe's, the redhead was talking non-stop, which didn't really surprise Beca. She had been in the same class as Chloe in junior year, and she knew how much the redhead could talk. At one point she almost told her to shut the hell up, because it was late and she was droning on about Aubrey and Stacie and how they basically abandoned her at the party before Stacie made her do shots, but she didn't because Chloe seemed pretty upset about it and Beca's not _that_ mean.

Almost forty minutes later, Beca pulled up Chloe's driveway, the rain even heavier than before now. The clock read 11:09.

The two of them just sat there. Sorta comfortable, but sorta not. It was silent, apart from the sound of the rain thudding on the truck. Occasionally, the windscreen wipers would swish to the left, wiping the rain from the window, which Chloe thought was pointless because it just rained straight back on to it anyway. Surely, if they were just sitting there in the driveway, Beca should turn the car off. Or maybe she's trying to tell Chloe something. Like..

"Are you gonna get out?" she asked, not looking at Chloe. The redhead just sat there for a second before she quickly nodded with a whispered "yeah", picking up her bag off of the floor.

And then her eyes caught a glimpse of the clock, and she groaned.

"Please tell me your clock is ten minutes fast."

"No."

"Damn it." She groaned, throwing her head back on the headrest.

"What's wrong?"

"My curfew is eleven."

"So is mine."

"My parents are gonna kill me."

"So is my dad."

Chloe looked at Beca, her eyes big and blue and wide, and Beca looked back at her, and a few seconds passed before Beca switched the engine off and opened the car door.

"What're you doing?" Chloe asked.

But Beca just walked around the car, the rain not seeming to bother her, to Chloe's side where she then proceeded to open the door for her. Before Chloe got out, Beca wordlessly stopped her, took her coat off, and draped it over Chloe's head.

Without saying anything, Chloe got out of the car and Beca shut her door for her. She wanted to take hold of Chloe's hand or arm or put her hand on the dip of her back to make sure Chloe didn't drunkenly fall over, but she didn't. Chloe would think that was weird. So she just set off walking to Chloe's front door, Chloe hot on her heel with her own jacket on and Beca's coat draped over her head to stop the rain from soaking her hair any more, and her bag tucked under her arm.

At the front door, Beca just looked at Chloe, and Chloe tried to read her face, as if Beca was a book or something, but she couldn't. And that was a first for her. Chloe was excellent at reading people.

Beca knocked on the door, and about ten seconds later, it swung open to reveal William Beale, a worried look on his face.

"Beca? Chloe! Thank God you're okay."

"Hey." Chloe just said, knowing that she was probably going to get told off for coming home past her curfew.

But before anybody could say anything, Beca cleared her throat.

"Sorry for keeping her so long, Mr Beale. We were hanging out at Luke's party and I didn't realise how late it was. I hadn't been drinking and I couldn't let her walk home alone so I gave her a ride. I apologise again for being late."

Chloe's eyebrows knitted together. **_What?_**

"Oh, Beca, that's totally okay." Chloe's dad said, which made Chloe raise her eyebrows. _**Whaaaat?**_ "We were just worried that Chloe was drunk and didn't know her way home. I'm glad you were there for her though. I really do appreciate it."

"It's no problem." she said, and then she actually smiled, and Chloe was pretty sure her eyebrows were practically in her hairline by now. **_What is happening?_**

It took a few more seconds for Chloe to realise that they were all just standing there, not doing or saying anything, before she took Beca's coat off of her head, and handed it to her with a smile.

"Thanks for the ride, Beca." she said, moving inside, and Beca just nodded.

"Have a good night." she said with a small smile.

"You too. Um, thanks."

And then Chloe shuffled inside, and Beca turned around and headed to her father's truck, the small smile still etched on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Chloe was pretty sure she was dying. Her head was pounding, her body ached everywhere, her throat felt like sandpaper, and she felt like she was going to throw up at any minute. Only whenever she ran to the bathroom, she would dry heave for a few minutes before the feeling surpassed, and she dragged her feet back to her room, where she then curled back under the covers and closed her eyes.

This happened at least four times, before she decided to just get up and go take some Advil. Her clock said it was 8:04AM, and God knows why she was up at this time on a Saturday, especially after a party, but she was sure that now that she was awake, she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. So she made her way downstairs, not forgetting to count the thirteen steps, and shuffled into the kitchen. Surprisingly, her parents weren't up yet; either that or they were already at work, so she poured herself half a glass of water and took two headache tablets.

It was a nice day from what she could see. Streams of sunlight fell through the window, filling up the kitchen with a warm, bright light. She could hear the bird's chirping outside, and the sound of someone mowing their lawn. It was a typical summer morning, and Chloe was glad that she didn't have to worry about being late for school for once.

She decided to put her new Goo Goo Dolls CD on, skipping it to track seven and turning the volume up to number twenty, with a smile on her face. This was her favourite song at the moment and she's only had the CD for a week, but she was pretty sure she knew every word to this song. And she proved that when she started to sing, pulling out some soy milk from the fridge and deciding to make herself some vegan pancakes for breakfast.

_**I'll open up my head awhile,**_  
><em><strong>Its been dead for years,<strong>_  
><em><strong>Must've been a victim of my peers,<strong>_  
><em><strong>One is for my happiness,<strong>_  
><em><strong>The other for my health,<strong>_  
><em><strong>The last is something bigger than myself.<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one,<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one,<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one to say.<strong>_

She mixed all the ingredients together into a bowl as she sang and danced along. If Chloe was good at anything, it was making pancakes perfectly. It was probably one of the few breakfasts she actually liked, simply because she found it awesome to eat something that she herself had made without causing a fire, or any bodily harm to herself. She had learned a couple of years back, when Aubrey was feeling ill and she was demanding pancakes. It never occurred to her that she should be able to make them at the time, but she was a good friend - at least she liked to think so, - so she decided to look through her mother's cookbook for the ingredients, and she made them for her best friend. It surprised her that she did so well, albeit having to throw away the first and second try because she burnt them. But as her father always said "if at first you don't succeed, it ain't over till the fat lady sings" which, when she was younger, was followed by him singing loudly, some sort of made up song about Dan Cook. It wasn't until she was a little older than she realised the "fat lady" saying was opera-inspired, and Dan Cook was actually a sports-writer who invented the phrase.

So she carried on singing along at the top of her voice as she made the pancakes, casually moving around the kitchen and miming animatedly to the song; like she was in her own little world, on stage where people would be clapping and chanting and screaming at her, and it she would smile and take a bow, and they would yell "encore!" because she's just _that_ good. She was so busy putting on her own little performance, that she was completely unaware that someone was in the garden listening to her.

_**I'm talkin' to myself again,**_  
><em><strong>I'll just start a fight,<strong>_  
><em><strong>And nobody can prove me wrong, I'm right,<strong>_  
><em><strong>Anti-hero idol with a suicide excuse,<strong>_  
><em><strong>A thousand other suckers who try and fill your shoes.<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one,<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one,<strong>_  
><em><strong>I ain't the only one to s-<strong>_

"Excuse me."

Chloe gasped, suddenly dropping the pan on the floor and wincing when it made a loud, clanging sound as it came into contact with the tiles. She turned around abruptly, her breath erratic, but soon slowed down when she noticed it was Beca Mitchell at the back door.

"G'morning." the brunette said politely, nodding her head as she stood in the doorway.

"Hi. Holy crap, you scared me. I.. I didn't know you were here."

"I noticed. Your parents went out earlier. Said something about the farmer's market."

"Ah, okay." Chloe smiled, bending down to pick the pan up and sighing when she saw the pancake mix splattered all over the floor. So much for a good breakfast.

"You need any help?" Beca asked, and Chloe shook her head, looking up at Beca with a small smile for a split second before going back to cleaning the mess up. She cleaned the pancake remnants off of the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood up, smearing some flour on her chin. Beca smirked.

"You, uh.. you got a little something on your face."

"What? Where?" Chloe brought her hand to her face, wiping it all over, but still managing to miss the flour on her chin.

"No, the uh.. on your chin. Right there." Beca pointed to her own chin to show her, and Chloe laughed nervously.

"Could you get it for me?"

"Um.. That's-it's literally right on your chin."

"Sorry, that was weird to ask. I'll be right back."

Beca just nodded, still stood in the doorway as she watched Chloe walk out of the kitchen, probably to the nearest mirror.

As she waited, Beca looked around the kitchen. When she came on Thursday, she had all but memorised the four walls of Chloe's kitchen while her father was talking to Chloe's parents. What was different now though, was that there was a framed photo of Chloe, Aubrey and Stacie in their graduation gowns on the wall next to the fridge. She didn't know how the Beale's already had a photo from yesterday printed out. She's pretty sure the shop that developed photos in town was shut yesterday. Or maybe the Beale's are the type who _actually_ have a printer, unlike her. She doesn't even have a laptop, despite having a burning passion for mixing music. But maybe all it was to her was a dream. It's not like she was missing anything. She'd never actually tried making music except from teaching herself the guitar and singing occasionally, and she would sometimes play two songs at once; one on her portable Walkman, and one on her CD player, and she'd see if they sounded well together. She just liked the concept of being a DJ. Her father, not so much. He called it a petty hobby, saying that only rich people could become famous DJ's, and they were obviously not rich enough to afford an ink printer, never mind DJ equipment.

She was pulled out of her little reverie when she heard Chloe ask, "hey, do you want something to drink?"

"I really should get back in the garden. Those plants aren't gonna plant themselves."

"Come on, you have all summer to do that. Coke or Lemonade?"

"Um.. Coke. Please."

While Chloe busied herself with getting cups, ice, and the bottle of Coke; Beca thought of something to say. She couldn't really think though. She didn't know what Chloe liked, but then again, she didn't really know anything about her. Just that 1. she's popular and 2. she's like, really smart, and 3. her hair must be magical because it always looked so perfect (like, what's her secret?) and 4. her parent's are probably the only one's in town who don't hate her and blame her for what happened two years ago.

Luckily, Chloe was much more nonchalant in breaking the awkward silence between them, asking, "so how long have you been here?"

"Since seven."

"Why so early?"

"My dad made me, for being home past my curfew last night."

"Oh. I apologise for that."

"It's no problem. I didn't wanna be that asshole who drove straight past you on the road, especially so late at night."

"Yeah, but you could have just pretended to not notice I was there."

"And risked you getting murdered or something? Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually not the shittiest person in the world."

"No, I didn't say you were. I just.. you didn't have to cover for me."

"I won't do it again then."

Chloe turned around with two cups of Coke in her hand, smiling sarcastically at Beca as she handed her the cup before sitting down at the table. The brunette thanked her with her own small smile and took a sip of the drink. It tasted nicer than normal Coke. Maybe Chloe had put something in it. Or maybe the Beale's were just better at everything than everybody else. Like how it seemed like the sun shone brighter here than it did where her house was, despite only being at least a ten minute drive away. And how the mud in Chloe's garden seemed really easy to dig up, and how the trees were much bigger and the grass was much greener, and the sky was more blue and there weren't as many dark clouds. She didn't understand that. Then again, maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe the so-called dark cloud followed her around except for when she was at the Beale house, as if it was a force field from bad things. If that was the case, then she's glad to be spending all summer here.

"You can come in you know, you don't have to stand at the door."

The brunette looked down slightly as she walked into the kitchen, sitting down opposite Chloe at the kitchen table and placing her cup down.

"So how come you skipped half of the album?" Beca asked, and Chloe's eyebrows knitted together.

"Huh?"

"The CD. You skipped to like, track nine."

"Oh. Track seven. And because 'Only One' is the best song on the album. Everybody knows that."

"I don't think it is."

"You don't?"

"No."

Chloe paused, waiting for Beca to explain. "Are you gonna elaborate?"

"I like all the songs."

"You actually like the Goo Goo Dolls?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Beca laughed, and Chloe smiled. It was the first time she had heard Beca Mitchell laugh. It was a weird sound. But a good weird. She liked it.

"I just thought you'd be into the more.. _darker_ stuff."

"_Darker_ stuff?"

"Yeah. You know, like Nirvana, Green Day, Rage Against the Machine. Stuff like that."

"They're hardly _dark_ but okay."

"They are kinda dark."

"I do actually like those bands."

"See!"

Beca laughed again, taking another sip of Coke. She liked Chloe, she decided. Not in an I'm-pretty-sure-if-we-carry-on-hanging-out-I'll-most-likely-fall-in-love-with-you way, but in an if-we-carry-on-talking-like-this-I'm-pretty-sure-we-could-maybe-possibly-kinda-be-friends way. Which was weird because Beca's never had a friend before, if you don't count the imaginary friend - his name was Leonard - she had when she was five.

As a heavy silence settled over them, Beca sat there, tapping her feet along to the music. Her eyes were unsettled, glancing around the kitchen unceremoniously. And Chloe was running her finger around the rim of the glass as she thought of a topic of conversation. She too, didn't know Beca, so she didn't really know what to talk about. Music, maybe? They seemed to have that in common. (And no, Chloe's not a stalker, but despite how drunk she seemed, she noticed that there was a fair amount CD's in Beca's truck last night. Then again, maybe they were her dad's.)

Right then, Chloe heard her name from what seemed like a short distance away, and she shook her head, as if she was ridding herself of a thought.

"Huh?"

"You were, uh.. staring at me."

"Oh, sorry!" Chloe laughed nervously, looking down at her glass with a shy smile. But Beca just shook her head, saying "it's fine," before drinking the rest of her Coke. She then stood up, with Chloe's nervous eyes watching her, and pointed her thumb back to the doorway.

"I better get back to work. Um, thanks for the drink."

"It's okay," Chloe said, standing up. "Thanks for keeping me company on this fine Saturday morning.

Chloe watched Beca leave, walking to the end of the garden where she had already started to dig a line for some plants to go in. The garden was kinda huge, compared to some other people's backyards, so it would take quite a while for Beca to get everything on the list done, as well as building the new hut that she had offered to build. Mr Beale bought it a few weeks ago, but never got the chance to put it up. It surprised him when Beca offered this morning when she noticed it leaning against the wall in the back yard, and he kind of had the suspicion that Beca just needed more money. But he'd be able to manage a hundred dollars more at least, so he took her up on the offer. She had quite a lot to do.

"You enjoying the view?"

Startled, Chloe turned around and sighed when she saw her Mom stood there with two grocery bags in her arms.

"What is it with people creeping up on me today?"

"What, I'm not the first one whose caught you staring at Miss Mysterious over there?"

"No, I don't mean it like that. I was singing earlier and Beca scared me. I didn't even know she was here."

Olive smiled, taking a few tins and boxes out of the paper bags and putting them away as she spoke.

"She arrived just before we were heading out. I was surprised she was here so early."

"Me too. How come you're not at work anyway?"

"Your dad and I thought we'd take the day off. Work can do without us for twenty four hours."

"Oh. I'm gonna go read."

"Not so fast. I bought some breakfast at the market. Maybe you could take some to Beca?"

Chloe just nodded with a tight-lipped smile, taking the bag from her mother. She looked inside, and there were two breakfast muffins, along with two apples. She decided to make two cups of coffee as well, before taking them outside.

Beca was currently pulling some weeds out of the long grass in the corner of the garden, and she turned around when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Hi. I come baring gifts."

"More gifts? Man, I'm starting to like working at the Beale household."

Chloe giggled, handing a cup of coffee to Beca when she stood up, and the brunette took it graciously.

"I didn't know how you liked your coffee so I just made it the same as mine."

"Black coffee with one and a half sugars." Beca said, and Chloe's eyes widened.

"You know how I like my coffee?"

"No, that's how I like_ my_ coffee. You like _your_ coffee like that too?"

"Yeah!"

Beca smiled, nodding her head as she stood with the hot cup in her hand. Chloe then sat down on the floor, and Beca followed suit, sitting opposite her and taking her gardening gloves off. The redhead handed her the breakfast muffin and the apple, as well as getting her own out of the bag.

"So I figured that if you're gonna be working in my garden all summer, then we should get to know each other. Need to know if I should be sleeping with a baseball bat or not."

"That won't be necessary, I never strike at night."

Chloe laughed. "You're funny."

"Thanks. You seem surprised."

"I'm not. I mean.. I don't know you. But from what I've heard, you're-"

"-Let's see.. Weird? Fucked-up? A failure? Incapable of emotion?"

"What? N-no! No, not at all."

Beca sighed.

"I know what people say about me. You don't have to try to be friends with me just to make me feel better about myself. It just makes you a dick."

"I'm not! I would never do that to someone. I.. you intrigue me."

The brunette scratched her eyebrow, taking a small, timid bite of her breakfast muffin, chewing it properly before quietly swallowing it. Truthfully, she hated eating in front of people. It always worried her that people would think she's a weird eater, or that she's too loud when chewing, or she eats with her mouth open, even though she knows for a fact that she doesn't. But Chloe had brought her breakfast so the least she could do was eat the damn thing.

That, and maybe talk. Talking was good too.

"I, uh, noticed yesterday, at graduation, that you was reading Out Of The Sky And Into Your Arms."

"You know that book?"

"Yeah, I read it a few months back. It's awesome."

"It is!" Chloe smiled. "Oh my gosh, you're like the first person I've met who's read it! Oh, don't tell me what happens, I'm not done yet!"

"You won't be disappointed is all I'm gonna say."

"Does Katy die? She totally dies doesn't she? Or does Jennifer die? I bet Nate kills her! Or he kills himself and then it turns out Katy is actually alive! But that can't happen because there's only like, forty pages left. There's too much to solve!"

Beca laughed, chuckling softly and warmly as Chloe rambled on. The redhead laughed along with her, an odd, sort of sputtering laugh, which Beca thought was endearing. The two of them carried on talking, and no matter how many times Chloe asked, but then changed her mind, and then asked again; Beca refused to tell her the ending to the book.

"They look like they're getting along."

Mr Beale had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He knew that hiring Beca to work in the garden would prompt some questions from his daughter, but he didn't actually think that she would be interested in befriending Beca. After all, he knew that Chloe's best friend's all hated Beca. And he knew how much Chloe valued her reputation. He didn't want them to clash, despite how happy he daughter looked sitting at the bottom of the garden with Beca Mitchell; laughing at something she had just said.

"We're gonna have to keep an eye on them, Olive." he sighed, turning around and heading to the living room.

Mrs Beale looked back out at the two of them and smiled sadly, before turning around and following her husband into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

_**One week later...**_

Beca sat dormant on the ground under a large thirty-two foot sycamore tree; her back leaning against the longstanding trunk with her old notebook clutched in one hand. The tree roots interlaced in the earth underneath her, protruding from the soil in inordinate loops and ridges, and she stroked her little finger over each one as she held a cigarette between her index and middle finger.

Her other hand held onto her lifeless journal; her fingers effortlessly dancing down the spine of the book, feeling the roughness of the last seven years right there. She laid her head back gently on the old jagged tree, puffs of warm breaths threading out of her lips; before taking another puff of the cigarette. And then she did it again. And then again. She took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke into the air out of her nostril, watching it disappear with squinted, worn-out eyes. And she did it a few more times, before it was almost all gone. She brought her hand up and stared at the now-tiny cigarette in between her fingers for a few seconds, before squashing it into the ground next to her; where other cigarette butts lay from when they had been crushed by her before now.

She looked somewhat haggard, with an oddly grown-up, yet young-enough-to-pass-off-as-fifteen, look on her face. Though meticulously clean, she was dressed in an odd assortment of over-worn and mismatched clothing. Her scruffy, ripped, skinny jeans looked out-of-place for a hot June morning, and her red plaid lumberjack shirt looked way too big for her small figure. Her hair was down, and she was thankful that she had naturally straight hair, as she didn't have enough money to buy herself some straighteners. (She could always use the iron but honestly, she's not that desperate.) She also had her Walkman clipped onto her jeans, and her $9 headphones resting around her neck.

She was petite, and anyone passing her in the forest probably wouldn't even notice her. The tree she was sitting under was almost hidden, which was pretty pointless anyway, because not many people seemed to go to the forest, except from hikers. (And probably axe murderers too, but in the nine years she's been going there, she hasn't come across one. She likes to think that's an accomplishment in itself.)

Much like Chloe, and much like any other normal person, Beca had her own little hideaway. This tree - the oh-so-amazing-chosen-one, - which was hidden in the forest a twenty minute walk away from hers and her father's house, was her getaway. She had come across this tree when she was just nine years old. Her father had been collecting wood, and the sycamore happened to stand out to Beca straight away. It wasn't like it was a special tree or anything, and it wasn't the biggest tree in the forest, nor was it the most beautiful tree in the forest, or the tree that was easiest to climb; but it stood out to the nine-year old, who had been drawing trees and different bits of nature a lot lately in her new drawing pad that her father had given her a few weeks prior.

It was one of those trees that had no palpable reason to exist in this particular forest. Every single one of the trees, other than a few others, were stood tall and beautiful, their slender trunks holding up over-hanging branches, and their boughs spangled with different shades of green, except from in fall and winter. It was a type of tree that belonged somewhere else; not the small town of Barden, which might as well not even be on the map, because despite having a population of just under eight thousand, it was pretty deserted. It belonged somewhere different, Beca thought, like in a completely different time. It belonged fifty years from now, on a freezing, fall morning in Central Park, or Boston Common, or Prospect Park, or Tompkins Square. Somewhere where people could see its wilting branches and fallen seeds and dark, dampened trunk, and admire it as much as Beca did.

Of course, at nine-years old, she was too young to walk twenty minutes from home just to find this tree to sit under, or to climb so she could draw or write. So she made the most of the times her father would go out to collect wood for the fire, or whenever he decided to just take a walk. And for the next four years, until she was thirteen years old – old enough to go out on her own, - she relished the small amount of time she had when the two of them walked out here, drawing under the tree as Warren found firewood, or the occasional everyday item that someone had dropped in their passing through the forest.

Right now, according to her watch, it was 6:28AM, and she was due at the Beale house in about an hour and a half. The problem was, that she just didn't want to move. She, once again, had absolutely no sleep, and decided to go for a walk at around four thirty this morning. It was still dark when she arrived, but now, the morning sun had started to peek through the gaps in between the leaves, illuminating different parts of the man-made footpaths around her.

So before heading off to Chloe's, she made the most of the atmosphere. Her tree, and the other trees surrounding her, and the rising sun, and the rooster from the farm cock-a-doodle-dooing, and the birds singing, and the grasshoppers stridulating, and the quiet sound of a train in the distance. Other than that, it was completely silent. No rushed footsteps, no murmured rumours or hushed whispers, and no car engines roaring to life, and no tractors or lawnmowers, and absolutely nothing but nature.

The saying "silence is golden" echoed in her brain, but all she could think of was how that was complete bullshit. The silence wasn't golden at all. Despite how much she liked to be alone, she didn't like to be lonely. And that's how she felt now. The silence - which wasn't at all golden, or even silver or bronze for that matter - was echoing in her ears, and it was a constant white noise that never shut up. Her head was swimming, and a cold, howling storm of loneliness refused to let up in her mind. For as long as she could remember, the dark, empty void in her had slowly been filled with coldness, and bitterness, and anger. It was as if she was completely and utterly alone in the world.

All she could think about right now - and any other normal day, but today it seemed more palpable in her mind - was the fire that happened two years before. It was a constant memory, that nothing would help get rid of. She was pretty sure that night was the second worst night of her life. It consumed her, every minute of every day. The nightmares occurred almost every night, whenever she could actually get to sleep. She used to like being alone, but now, that loneliness became a raging anguish rather than an easing comfort.

With a sigh, she pushed herself off of the ground and stood up, wiping the dirt from her hands on her jean-clad thighs. She picked her backpack up and put her journal back in it, throwing it on her back before she set off back home, trudging through the dry mud and fallen leaves. She put her headphones over her ears as she walked, switching the channels on the radio until she heard Oasis' most recent song "Some Might Say" come through the small speakers.

At 7:40AM, she got in her father's truck (promising that she'd be back before curfew, because her dad didn't need the truck today) and set off to Chloe's house. She arrived promptly at 7:52AM, and was welcomed, just like the past few days, with Chloe sitting on the swing on her front porch.

Every day that Beca had arrived this past week, Chloe had sat on her front porch - God knows why she was up so early when it was summer vacation - either reading a book, or writing in a notepad. A notepad that Beca hadn't had a chance to look at yet, so she didn't know whether Chloe was writing; 1. A story, 2. A song, 3. A poem, 4. A diary entry, or 5. Some other unknown inscription, maybe a cunning or scheming conspiracy that only she was permitted to see. She didn't know why someone as innocent as Chloe would be doing something like that, but you can never be sure about someone. However, today Chloe just had a closed book resting on the seat next to her, with a miserable look on her face. It immediately struck Beca as strange.

Just like the other times she had arrived, Beca didn't greet Chloe until she had jumped out of the truck, and walked up the footpath towards the house. By now, Chloe would already be smiling, and then Beca would take her gardening gloves out of her back pocket and put them on, while she'd say, "morning," and Chloe would usually either reply with "good morning" and shoot her a bigger, brighter smile, or she'd say "hey!" and Beca would customarily drown in the effervescent happiness radiating from the one and only Chloe Beale. But this morning seemed different.

"Morning." Beca said as usual as she put her gloves on, not smiling but not frowning. Chloe just looked up at her and smiled. Then the redhead stood up, picked the book up from the spot beside her, and handed it to Beca.

"What's this for?" Beca asked, confused, as she held the book in her hand. She had already told Chloe she had read the book. Why was she giving it to her?

"I need you to get rid of it for me. Burn it, bury it, throw it in Barden River for all I care. I hate that book!"

Beca smirked, following Chloe as she walked into the back yard. She didn't know why but she was glad that Chloe wasn't actually upset. That would have been a bummer, to see a generally cheerful girl like Chloe looking glum all day.

"So you finally finished it?"

"I did. And I hate it! I don't hate it, because it's incredible, but… but I hate it!"

The backyard, although still needing a lot of work doing to it, was coming along quite nice, if Beca must say. Although, it did feel as if she had worked her ass off all week, with next to no results. But that was probably because once Beca started to actually put effort into digging up the soil, and planting flowers, Chloe would come out with a cup of lemonade, and some savoury snack, and they'd start talking. Then before Beca knew it, hours had passed and she was still sitting in the same spot, talking to Chloe, with the shovel laying inert next to her.

The two had formed, what you could say, a friendly bond. They were more than just two people who knew each other, because Beca had actually held more than a regular, civil conversation with Chloe. And anybody who knew that Beca actually liked the song 'Escape' - AKA the Piña Colada Song by Rupert Holmes - was more than an acquaintance. (Chloe found that particular fact out when she had taken Beca's Walkman off of her yesterday, and put the headphones over her ears to hear "If you like making love at midnight" being sung pretty loudly by Rupert himself.)

"I just can't believe that after all the shit that Nate went through with trying to find Katy, she just committed suicide in the end! I'm not gonna say that's selfish, because the shit she went through was pretty darn cruel, but… Nate finally found out that Jennifer was the one keeping Katy captive and he killed her - which I called from day one, by the way – but Katy still jumped out of the window. I just… My mind hasn't fully grasped it yet. Augustus Kelson is one twisted fucker."

Beca let out a small laugh as Chloe rambled on about the book. She had also been shocked with the ending, but listening to Chloe rant on about it just made her think about the book even more. She couldn't deny that it was one of the best books written, because of all the plot twists and aspects, but she still had some unanswered questions about it. Ones that she'd probably never get answered.

So without saying anything, Beca continued to follow Chloe to the bottom of the yard, kind of feeling like a puppy following her master, which - if Chloe knew Beca was thinking this – she would not feel so bad about comparing Beca to a puppy that day in her kitchen. They walked until Chloe brusquely stopped, and turned around to face Beca.

"What do you like to do?"

"What?" Beca answered.

"What do you like to do?" Chloe repeated. "I know you like to read books, and you like music. What else?"

"Um… that's random seeing as you were just going on about the book, but… I like nature. I like to write and draw. Um, I play the guitar. I also like the city."

"Have you ever been?"

"To the city?"

"Yeah."

"I sometimes drive there."

"Really?"

"Really." Beca nodded.

"What do you do there?"

Chloe sat down on the grass, and Beca followed suit immediately, trying not to notice the way their knees were touching. Barely, but they were touching.

"I like to look at the Memorials from the bombing that happened in April. I sometimes get a coffee if I have the money."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah, I don't… I can't really do anything else with no money."

"So you just drive out there, look at the memorials, and drive back?"

"Yeah."

"That's like, two hours there, two hours back. That's such a waste of gas. Why?"

"I don't know. I like to get away from Barden for a little while. Even if it's just for a few hours."

"You don't like it here?"

Beca gulped. "I didn't say that."

"But I'm asking… Don't you like Barden?"

"It's a small town. There's not much adventure."

"So you're looking for adventure?"

"I'm looking for whatever I find."

"What do you want to find?"

"You ask many unanswerable questions."

Chloe let out a small, almost inaudible breath. It wasn't quite a laugh, but it wasn't quite a sigh either. She did that a lot, Beca noticed. And Beca noticed a lot about Chloe.

Like how she does a, what Beca has named the I-finally-have-food-in-my-body-and-I-feel-great-about-it, dance after she's finished eating something. And it's not so much a dance, but more of a little bum wiggle, which Beca finds insanely alluring. And she also notices how Chloe always seems to be humming a tune. And half of the time, Beca has no idea what tune it is, but she finds solace in listening to Chloe's sweet voice as they both sit down and eat together. And Chloe tends to go off on a tangent, which Beca isn't really bothered by, because normally, she doesn't have much to say, so she'd rather listen than speak. But really, even if she wanted to speak, Chloe doesn't really give her the chance.

"Let's go." The redhead said after a short silence, and Beca's eyebrows knitted together.

"Where?"

"Oklahoma City."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know…"

"Why not?"

"I gotta work."

"My parents won't mind."

"I don't have enough gas in the tank."

"I'll pay. I'll even buy you lunch."

"No," Beca shook her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Please, Becs! I've never been to the city before."

And something about the way Chloe said 'Becs', made Beca's stomach twist, and warmth flutter throughout her entire body. Nobody had really ever given her a nickname before. She was kind of glad that Chloe was the one to take her nickname virginity.

"Okay." She said, and Chloe's mouth widened into a smile. Her lips lifted upward, her eyes crinkled, and her perfectly aligned teeth bared. It made Beca smile back. Chloe's smile was a ray of sunshine, and Beca was the sunburn.

"Really?!"

"Yeah."

"Cool! Let me just get my bag!"

Before Beca had chance to say anything else, Chloe jumped up to her feet, and skipped - literally skipped - up the garden and to her backdoor, where she slid it open with a strong push, and disappeared inside.

"Hey sweetie, how's Beca?" Olive asked when she saw Chloe come into the kitchen.

"She's good. Can we go to the city for the day?"

Her mother frowned, looking at Chloe with a confused look on her face.

"Why?"

"Because I've never been to the city and Beca said she'd take me. Please!"

Her dad then walked in from the living room, dressed up to go to work.

"What are you asking for now?" he asked with a smile, and Chloe turned to look at him with a pleading look on her face.

"Can Beca and I go into the city?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Chlo-bear."

"Dad, for the last time, Beca's not a bad person. I don't know who put that thought in your head but she's not, okay? She's really nice, and she's the only person who doesn't like me just because I'm friends with Aubrey. Why don't you trust me?"

"Honey, I trust you. I just don't trust Beca."

"Dad, please. I'll call you as soon as we get there. It's not like we'll be staying there until tomorrow. We'll be back tonight. Please!"

Her dad sighed, scratching the short, rough stubble on his face.

"I don't know."

"Oh, let her go." Olive said, and Chloe smiled brightly at her mother, before looking back at William, who just shook his head as he let out a small exhalation of breath.

"Fine. Be back before curfew."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I apologise for the long wait. I've been super busy, and blah blah blah, I'm not gonna bore you with details. Also, I am aware that I've got probably everything wrong about this whole Okahoma City bombing memorial museum palaver, as I know that the bombing was only in April 1995, and this story is set in late June 1995, and it's impossible that they could have set up the memorial museum that fast and everything, so let's just pretend that everything I'm saying is right, because this is my story, and I don't know anything about anything so I just like to make shit up. Awesome.**

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><p>If you would have told Beca Mitchell that this summer, she'd be driving up to Oklahoma City, with nothing but fifteen dollars, her Rolling Stones' 'Voodoo Lounge' CD, her Walkman, six pieces of gum, a bottle of water, and one very excited Chloe Beale; she honestly wouldn't have even known what to say. (She probably wouldn't have even heard you because she's actually really good at ignoring people when she's got her headphones on, which is like, all the time.)<p>

Yet there she was, driving up the highway with Chloe Beale, listening to the redhead sing 'You Got Me Rocking' at the top of her voice, the windows rolled down and her hair whipping in the summer breeze, with an actual, genuine smile on her face.

Beca had never been on a road trip before. Not with someone other than her dad, anyway. She didn't really know how to feel. She _has_ only, technically, _actually_ known Chloe for a week. And she's not sure that knowing someone for that short amount of time makes it okay to indulge in a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Oklahoma City. Especially with next to no money as well. Chloe was the type of person who liked to get her own way, and Beca was the type of person who - you guessed it - despised people like that. But somehow, Chloe seemed different. She was hella (shut up, Chloe likes that phrase now, and it's easy to adopt these little quirks from someone like Chloe Beale) annoying, but different. Chloe was nice, unlike her friends, who had constantly belittled Beca since middle school. Chloe just wanted to go to Oklahoma City to see the memorials, because Chloe's never been before, and Beca's sure as hell gonna take Chloe Beale to Oklahoma City, damn it. And if she gets a free meal out of it, then that's even better.

As the song faded out and the next track started, Chloe turned the radio down and twisted her body so she could look at Beca. And the brunette, feeling Chloe looking at her, but wanting to keep her eyes on the road, couldn't help but ask, "what's up?"

"You're real-smiling." Chloe just said, which caused Beca to raise her eyebrows.

"I'm what?"

"Real-smiling. It's the most I've ever seen you smile."

Beca just stayed quiet as she kept her eyes on the road in front of her, noticing that she was in fact real-smiling. As she drove, she tried her best to keep a neutral expression on her face, before she came to a stop at a red light. She waited for a second, before turning her head to look at Chloe, who was still looking at her, and another smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're still smiling."

"Because you're making me smile, idiot." Beca laughed, turning her head back to the road to avert her gaze, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away. The light turned green again, and Beca set off as Chloe turned the music up a little louder. It was hard to not real-smile when Chloe Beale was sitting beside her.

They carried on driving like this, occasionally chatting about whatever they were thinking. It was mostly Chloe who started the conversations, asking Beca things such as "is there enough gas in the tank?", "What's your middle name?", "I've heard there's a zoo in Oklahoma City, is that true?", "Do we have to stop yet? I need to pee.", "You don't have any other CD's in your truck?", and the inevitable "are we there yet?" despite the fact that they had only been on the road for about fifty minutes.

It was at least 90° outside, and the sun was gleaming through the windscreen. Luckily though, Beca had put the air conditioning on, which was blowing cool air onto their arms and legs. It didn't make much of a difference, but at least they had that, as well as the cool breeze through the windows.

"Beca?"

"Yeah."

"What are those wavy things?"

"What wavy things?"

"You know, those little waves coming from the road. It kinda looks like there's water on the road."

"Oh, them. They're called mirages."

Chloe nodded, looking at the road in front of her, seeing the waves coming from the road. She remembered learning about them in middle school but she never really understood. All she remembered is that sometimes when it's too hot outside, people hallucinate, and they think that a mirage - aka a pool of water or something - is there. And then whenever she hears the word 'mirage' she just thinks of in cartoons, like in Tom & Jerry, when they think there is a swimming pool and they go to jump in it but it disappears at the very last second. Those scenes always make her laugh.

"Do you know what causes them?" Beca asked her, and Chloe shook her head as she looked at Beca again.

"No. Do you?"

"It's caused by refraction, which is like… the bending of light waves." She paused momentarily as she turned the music down a little. "There are two different levels with refractive indices; hot air and cool air. So as the light passes between the different levels, it bends, and creates those little wavy things that look like water. A mirage."

"Woah. That's so cool."

"Yeah, it's pretty neat."

"No I mean, it's cool that you know that. You're really smart."

Beca just nodded, glancing at Chloe for a split second before looking back out at the road again. Her eyes then caught sight of the gas tank meter, and she frowned as she noticed that it was almost at 1/4. If they wanted to make it to the city and back in the same day, it needed to be three-quarters full, at least.

"We gotta stop for gas." She said.

"Okay, we'll stop at the next gas station. How much do you have?"

"Um, fifteen dollars. I can totally pay if you-"

"-No, I'll pay."

Beca breathed out a sigh, glancing at Chloe before looking to the road again, seeing that there was a sign for a gas station close to them.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm the one who made you drive me. It's the least I could do. You could buy me some Lifesavers though and we'll call it even."

"Deal."

Once they had filled the tank up – or rather, Beca filling the tank up while Chloe waited beside her, making rude remarks. Such as, when Beca said "I can't get it in" referring to the gas pump, Chloe just had to respond with "that's what she said" and for some reason, it really made Beca blush, - they both walked into the gas station, where Chloe insisted, once again after Beca asked, on paying for all the gas. So as Chloe paid for the gas with her card, Beca went straight to the candy section. She picked a packet of Reese's Pieces for herself, and some Lifesavers for Chloe, then two bottles of Coke for them for the rest of the hour-long journey.

Soon enough, they were back on the highway. One thing Chloe hadn't mentioned, was that she's not actually allowed Lifesavers. And if Beca knew this, she probably would have insisted on spending all of her money for the gas rather than buying Chloe the candy, because Chloe Beale isn't allowed Lifesavers due to the fact that they make her positively chaotic. Like, Beca's pretty sure she's deaf in her right ear now. They had listened to the whole Rolling Stones album, so Chloe took it upon herself to make her own music, which included using their coke bottles as drumsticks and singing 'Hooked On A Feeling' at the top of her voice. She even used her voice to do the guitar sounds at one point, which almost made Beca crash due to how much she was laughing. (That's a lie, they were pretty much the only ones on the high way.) But honestly, Beca had never laughed as much as she had on the journey to the city.

Now, Chloe was staring out of the window in awe as Beca drove through the streets of Oklahoma. It looked so much bigger compared to Barden. There were bigger buildings, and less greenery, and more cars and taxis and trucks, and hundreds more people, and nine thousand times more shops, and like, the roads were actually made of concrete. It looked incredible, and Chloe was pretty sure she had never been excited as she was now.

As Beca pulled into a parking space on Harvey Avenue, Chloe was out of the door before the brunette had chance to shut the engine off, which made the brunette let out a soft laugh. Chloe was like a little child, and Beca had never seen someone so excited to be somewhere before.

"Where are we going first?" Chloe asked as Beca got out of the truck and locked the doors. The brunette turned around to see Chloe looking over at the Memorial Museum, which wasn't too far away. They would be able to walk it.

"You wanna go to the museum first?"

"Yeah! How much is it?"

"Um, I don't actually know."

"That's okay. Come on!"

It was a ten minute walk to the museum, which was actually busy to say it was quite early. The two of them queued up outside for another ten minutes, until it was time to pay to get in.

"Two students please." Chloe said in a chipper voice to the man at the desk. He looked to be no older than twenty-four. He wasn't particularly good-looking, Beca would say, but he wasn't ugly either. He really needed to shave though, and maybe have a little haircut. He also seemed to be checking Chloe out, which neither of them appreciated. As they waited, Chloe turned around and smiled at Beca.

"Are you excited? How many times have you been before?"

"I haven't been in the museum before. I've only driven up a few times in the past two months since the bombing. I've never actually paid to go in and see them. I just kinda admire them from a distance."

"Oh okay." Chloe smiled, wondering why Beca liked to drive up to see the memorials. However, she would save that question until later.

The total came up to $22, seeing as Chloe didn't have her ID on her to prove she was a student, so she had to pay $2 more than Beca. And Beca obviously didn't have enough money, which is why she now felt bad because Chloe had paid her admission in, without taking no for an answer. She kept telling Beca that it was the least she could do for driving them both up here, but Chloe had also paid for gas as well. All Beca had done was buy Chloe some lifesavers, which she wasn't even allowed in the first place. After Chloe telling Beca that "for the last time, you don't have to pay me back" and Beca insisting that she'll buy Chloe lunch some time other than today to make it even, the two of them went inside the museum and started the tour.

The first part of the tour was about the background of terrorism, which strangely, Chloe found very interesting. But then again, she was Chloe Beale. Everything was interesting to Chloe Beale. There were 10 "chapters" throughout the tour, which gave the visitors insight on everything that had happened leading up the bombing, and everything that happened on that day. They listened to an audio of the blast, saw damaged furnishings and pieces from buildings, watched videos of the survivors, saw pieces of evidence leading to the offenders, and a lot more. Chloe seemed to be sincerely fascinated by all the information she was learning. She could tell that something was off with Beca, but she just brushed that off as her feeling guilty that Chloe paid her in. It wasn't until they reached Chapter 7A, the "gallery of honor", that Beca started to become more anxious.

"Hey." Chloe said, her hand nudging Beca's. The brunette turned to look at her, and Chloe smiled. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

The redhead slowly walked over to the wall that stood before them that held tributes to the 168 who were killed in the bombing, as Beca stayed a few steps behind her. Chloe seemed to have a sullen expression on her face as she looked at all the names. It broke her heart knowing that these people lost their lives due to such a tragic event. That all these people had families and friends who would never see them again. That it was only weeks since this happened. It was all very melancholy, and Chloe just wanted someone's hand to hold, or to have someone hold her for a second. Although she didn't know anyone who was unfortunate enough to die in the accident, it still made her sad. And she could have held Beca's hand, or just asked Beca for a hug (and Beca would have probably complied, no doubt) but when she turned around, the brunette was gone.

She looked around her as she spun in a complete circle, not wanting to cause a scene by yelling Beca's name. But just as she was about to move to the next chapter to see if Beca had gone in without her, her eyes caught sight of the brunette stood in front of one of the pictures in the big room. Her shoulders were slumped, and her face looked to be hostile. She looked angry, but upset. She looked like she was in pain. Taking a few seconds, Chloe breathed in a deep breath as she approached the brunette.

"Hi." She said, lightly touching Beca's shoulder.

The brunette didn't answer, but kept her eyes ahead of her on one of the pictures. And as Chloe followed her line of sight, her eyes caught sight of a picture of what looked to be an old man, in his sixties or seventies. His hair was obviously brown, but most of it was covered by white and grey hairs due to his old age. He had a huge smile on his face as he looked straight at Chloe, with his red sweater and yellow shirt showing proudly.

Chloe's eyes glanced down at the plaque under the picture, and her mouth parted slightly when she saw that it read 'Warren Mitchell Snr.'

"Is that…"

"My grandpa."

Chloe paused for a second, her hand twitching as it hung beside her, millimetres away from Beca's. She wanted to reach out and take Beca's hand in hers, just to show her that she was there for her, but she didn't think Beca would appreciate that. Especially now. Instead of doing that, she just stayed standing beside her, looking back at the picture of the old man.

Instead of saying "I'm sorry," or "are you okay?" like any normal person would, the redhead breathed in and said, "He looks really happy."

"He was. I don't think I ever saw him looking sad."

For a split second, a small smile tugged at the corner of Beca's mouth just as Chloe looked at her, and the redhead smiled, thinking that she was handling this okay.

"Do you miss him?"

"Of course." She answered immediately. "I didn't get to see him much, but when I did it was so great. He lived in Dallas, and he used to drive up to Barden, but he never used to tell us when he was coming. Like, sometimes he would pick me up from school and I'd be so happy to see him that one time, I was running towards him and I fell and broke my ankle. And he would always take me for ice cream, and buy me like, a drawing pad or something."

"He sounds amazing."

Beca nodded. "Other than my dad, he was the only family I had left."

Chloe contemplated her "should I hold Beca's hand or should I just stay put in case she pushes me away?" proposal, and thought to ignore the latter. She reached out and slid her hand down Beca's wrist and into her palm, her fingers clasping around the brunette's hand as the two of them stood looking at the picture of Beca's grandfather.

"I'm sorry." Beca said.

"For what?"

"Lying. I have been here before. Once. Dad brought me to see the museum. I just didn't want you to ask questions so I lied."

"Why did you tell me just now?"

The brunette paused for a second before shaking her head with a soft, pained laugh. She looked down at their hands clasped together, before looking back up at Chloe.

"I don't know. I think I trust you."


End file.
